Hold On

How can you comprehend loss? How do you comfort someone who is currently holding on to tiny strings of Everything’s Going To Be Okay and yet people around them will keep on pushing the reality of pain, the reality of sickness, the reality of death, the reality of losing someone they cared for their whole lives? How will you be able to stare Loss in the face and never be bothered by his existence? How can you translate words of encouragement into comfort? How can you comfort someone with words when you believe words, sometimes, reach its limit?

H O P E
F A I T H
G O D

These words are bigger than Cancer, Pain, and most of all, Death. Our human minds, however, can be so weak that it can sunk us so low and will leave us without any idea how to bounce back from the negatives.

Cancer happened in our family twenty years ago and it took my dad. But I was young then, I never understood the pain of actually losing a father who’s been there the whole time. It was an event of loss, yes, but for me it was just something on the surface. That loss never got me. I’ve never felt Loss cut so deep that it drenched me helpless, hopeless and broken. So when my friend came face to face with the possibility of a loss, I don’t know the right words to say or offer that would make the pain go away.

However, even if I’m not so confident with my words versus the situation as of current, I think here’s where I’ll still stand. I wrote this in the first chapter of my (ongoing) novel a year ago:

To doubt was easy. To lose hope was easy. To question the circumstance was easy. But I believe, we humans are not created for easy or choosing easy. The virtue of a miracle is that it works when your heart is almost throwing out the white towel of Hope, almost at the edge of giving up, almost crying tears of I don’t wanna do this anymore. It’s when you surrender it all to Faith. It’s when you handed all the pain to that Someone who understands… the miracle is: it will all get better. And yes, in time. Just like what it said in a song.

What cancer taught us is that you can never box Encouragement, Huge Hugs, Kiss On The Forehead, Smiles, Laughter, and an Overflow Of Love. You can never box those things. You can never box Moments.

Loss can be this huge galaxy of uncertainty. Yet, one thing remains true above this all: with our good Lord, we are certain that we are always safe. That His arms are wide open to catch all the pain we can’t anymore carry and heal us where we are most broken. That in our weakness, He can shower us with strength — an inner invincibility. That alone is the last thing we will ever feel because He will bring us to people who can help, who can bring smiles and buckets full of genuine concerns and prayers. That whatever this world throws in front of our face, the reality that we have a God who saves will remain unshaken.

Death is just death. Sickness is just sickness. Cancer is just cancer. But God, He is our God, our Father, Savior, Healer, Comforter.

To my dear friend, you and I might never understand everything that’s going on but our Lord does. He will never forsake you. He will never forsake your family. Not now. Not ever.

Hold on. We’re holding on the strings with you.

***

Can you do me a favor? Can you please include prayers of comfort and strength for my friend Mayu and her family (most especially, her mom)? We need you to pray with us. Thank you for your good heart! :)

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